


Won't you break me, and make me feel used

by bonotje



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dom/sub Undertones, Facials, M/M, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 05:30:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21094178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonotje/pseuds/bonotje
Summary: It somehow feels like totally new territory, yet there are memories from tens, maybe hundreds of times before being conjured up in his mind. Different coloured carpets painting Max’s knees red, the non-descript paintings on the walls their only witness time and time again.





	Won't you break me, and make me feel used

**Author's Note:**

> Oh wow I can still write Maxiel? I saw this [gif](https://66.media.tumblr.com/2238a5a6c6daea159bf50269a5d2a07e/tumblr_pjw96uJHf81vl9razo1_500.gifv) of Max and wanted to write submissive Max, this is what came out of it. (Shout out to my girl Nat for making the gif)
> 
> Title from Break Me by McFly

They haven’t done this in a long time, but when Max had showed up at his hotel room with that look in his eyes, a soft  _ please _ falling from his lips, he hadn’t been able to deny him access. 

He can only imagine how overwhelming this weekend, week, must’ve been for Max, the Japanese grand prix always a whirlwind with the passionate fans everywhere, let alone when it was Honda’s home race. And an early retirement from the race to finish it all off? 

They haven’t done this in a long time, the chaotic end of the last season and them being on different teams this season had put an abrupt halt to it. To Max finding his way into his hotel room, knees pressed into the rough carpet, blue eyes wide as they looked up at him. Yet here they are again. Max’s Adam’s apple bobbing up and down slowly as he looks up at him a little nervously, like he’s unsure about what Daniel will do. 

It somehow feels like totally new territory, yet there are memories from tens, maybe hundreds of times before being conjured up in his mind. Different coloured carpets painting Max’s knees red, the non-descript paintings on the walls their only witness time and time again. 

Max’s mouth twitches ever so slightly, his gaze flicking up at him quickly before his hands start moving, fingers slipping in between the soft leather and the heavy buckle of the belt he’s wearing. Slipping it free from the hook, drawing it out from in between the belt loops slowly, almost reverently. Deft fingers make quick work of the buttons of his jeans, tugging the fabric of them down far enough for them to sink to the floor on their own. 

He’s straining against the cotton of his boxers now, Max’s gaze clouded with submission mixing with the memories of countless other times he’s seen this display before him, more than enough to get him standing at attention. Max’s fingers rub against the edge of his boxers, movements unsure as he waits for permission. 

“It’s okay,” Daniel says, voice rough but determined. 

The fabric soon joins his jeans where they’re tangled around his feet and he can feel Max’s fingers twitch against his thighs as if they’re aching to reach out, to touch, but he won’t let himself unless Daniel tells him to. Dan reaches out then, the fingers of his right hand running over the skin of Max’s throat, Adam’s apple jumping up underneath his touch. His index finger hooks underneath his chin, drawing Max’s gaze back up at him. There’s barely any of the blue left in them, pupils blown so wide now. His thumb rubs over a chapped bottom lip, under dark bags under blue eyes and then drags up into blond hair along with the rest of his fingers. The strong grip of his fingers on Max’s hair making a soft gasp escape from the younger man, mouth falling open as his eyes fall shut. 

“No. Look at me Max,” he says and slowly blue eyes blink open at him again, gaze steady. 

“Open up.” The command is followed as easily as the first one, lips parting and tongue poking out, waiting. 

With his left hand he guides his cock to Max’s mouth, feeding it to him inch by inch, and Max takes everything he gives. His eyes twitch, wanting to fall back closed again, but they remain on Daniel as he slowly starts to thrust into his mouth. 

There’s nothing gentle about this, Max pliant underneath him, mouth warm and wet and sucking around him tightly. The noises he makes as Dan hits the back of his throat again and again are obscene and should probably make him want to stop, but the feeling of his cock disappearing deep down Max’s throat is too good to make him quit. And he knows Max can take this, that this what was he was asking for with that single word. That he was asking for this when he’d sunk to his knees, to be used, to be broken. 

All too soon he can feel the telltale sign of his orgasm building up inside of him, electricity firing through his body, sparking up little fires all throughout him until he’s ready to burst. The grip on Max’s hair tightens some more, his left hand working over himself in quick strokes as he draws back from Max’s mouth. There’s a gasp of breath and then Max’s mouth falls back open for him again, tongue poking out in waiting. Waiting for Daniel to paint all over it.

The image of Max’s eyes falling shut, long eyelashes fanning out, waiting to be debased, is what pushes him over the edge. His come paints white stripes over flushed cheeks and ruby red lips, pooling onto Max’s tongue. 

With a groan he lets himself fall to his knees, mouth falling against Max’s, his own come pushed into his mouth as their tongues tangle until there’s nothing left. He draws back and admires the view before him, this painting so unique, one that only he gets to see. He stares at it long enough to memorise it, then draws his thumb over the sticky stripes, over his cheeks, under his eyes and over his cupid’s bow until they disappear into Max’s skin, the painting gone but captured in his mind. 

He scrambles back to his feet, tugs his boxers and jeans back up and slowly pushes each button through its corresponding buttonhole. He takes one last look at Max before he crosses the room, opens up the door and waits for Max to disappear down the corridor, the invisible painting still on his face. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and as always kudos and comments make my little writers heart soar. And you can find me on tumblr at [sleepyverstappens](http://www.sleepyverstappens.tumblr.com) Prompts are always welcome as well :D


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